The hot desert sun beats down on you, your travel slow and dreary on the backs of camels. You are a few weeks out of the town of Solku and its been a long ride to this point heading for an unknown location in the northern scrublands of Katapesh. In the distant background you see the immense outline of Pale Mountain looming over the mid-evening horizon like a tombstone. You are here because you joined onto a caravan with the promise of your own personel goals being met even if the man who hired you on does not know your true motives. His name is Garavel, a no-nonsense major-domo of a merchant princess who is awaiting you group. With a latern jaw and short black hair, he is dashing and looks more like a swordsman than an accountant and business expert. He has been quiet most of the trip but you know the plans of his employer are to retake the town of Kelmarane, ordered so by the Pactmasters of Katapesh. Trade must be restored!

Game on Gamers!! Ok here we go, start by role playing on how you came to be with the caravan, describe yourself a bit so everyone knows what you bring to the table and you have been together for a few weeks now so you can work on how you met and became comrades!!!

The halfling "Pae" walks in the shade of the wagons, if he was a little shorter he could walk under the wagon's...

You've heard Pae's stories a hundred times already:

Paellat Silvertongue was born in his father's stall in the markets of Sothis. Paellat was raised in the Malhitu Bazaar, his father and mother were merchants, so he learned to gauge the value of items. He would sneak into the Antiquities Auctions. He became fascinated by the mystical objects which were pulled from the tombs of the Ancient Osirion.

Paellat was a rambunctious child, constantly on the move, even as a child, he fantasized about tomb-robbing, all his games revolved around it. As one of the few non-humans in the city, he was often mistaken for a child, and was constantly talking his way out of trouble. As a youth, he would sneak into the libraries and peruse the books, able to hide in small places, one of the advantages of being a halfling in a human city. When he was twelve he was caught, but again talked his way out of trouble, as he was able to link a story he'd heard, to the book he was reading. The scholar who caught him took him under his wing. Taught him to read Ancient Osirion, taught him about the ancient religions, and the cursed undead. He spent years under the tutelage of the Dwarven sage Merrigs Ironbook. He learned to restore books, becoming a book binder, restoring ancient texts as an illuminator. He grew bored of sitting in the library all the time, and ached for the exploration he had dreamed of as a child. Pae said his goodbyes, gathered his supplies, and the earnings he'd acquired from his toils in the library, bought some gear, and departed the library. He heard the Society was looking for adventurers in Katapesh, so he caught a caravan there, not able to find adventure, he decided to join another caravan...

He's never been so bored...luckily he found some books in the caravan and has been reading them in the evenings...oh for the life of adventure...

Whenever Pae has the chance he tries to learn to use that whip better, he's figured out how to wrap it around ankles and weapons, but he has trouble hitting fleshy areas to cause the most damage, he even has a scar on his chin from a miss ;)

The white protective wrap of his turban protecting him from Sarenrae's wrath he watched the waves of heat come off the ground and distort the horizon. His long white chasuble decorated with red and gold thread depicting images of the sun often billowed behind him as it was caught by the breeze. The breezes were not what one would call refreshing instead they were like standing in front of a heated forge. Underneath the chasuble could be glimpsed his white linen shirt and pants with a golden colored cloth belt wrapped around his waist. Every once in awhile a flash could be seen when the sun caught the polished scimitar inlaid with a simple gold sunburst on the cross-guard that hung there or the periodically exposed chain links of his armor that slipped out from beneath his tunic every once in awhile. A satchel also emblazoned with sunbursts and an angel with arms outstretched and wings raised to form the shape of an ankh hung opposite the blade from his waist. His Garundi heritage obvious through his dark ebony skin Bahir keeps his hair braided and pulled back into a short ponytail. There doesn't seem to be an imperfection visible anywhere on his smooth skin. He keeps himself and his possessions very clean.

He had never been much for riding camels but was grateful he did not have to walk the whole way to Kelmarane. His attention caught by the breeze swirling Mah'ysa's colorful shawls playfully in it he glances over her direction. Not much could be seen with her shawls pulled up around her face to protect from the dust and sand but he knew well the symbols of her faith she carried hidden at the moment from view. Even from here he could see the blue eyes that seemed to reflect the horizon and also clearly betrayed she carried something other than human blood in her. He was happy to have someone who understood and shared the faith so deeply. They had already had a number of conversations around their shared faith that made him feel more grounded and focused his purpose on this mission for which he was truly thankful. Her guidance would be very welcome with the re-consecration of the monastery and chapel. Nodding to himself, the elders chose wisely.

Glancing up ahead he could see the man Daumari's cloaked form. The man rarely showed himself and spoke even less. He seemed to venerate Sarenrae also but in a way that mystified Bahir. Still, it seemed his heart was in the right place and Mah'ysa seemed to agree so that was enough. From what he could tell Daumari liked to be in the fore-front of the group and would watch the ground and the horizon like a hawk. What does he see out there that I don't?

Then there was Efreat 'al Inferis, this one was something out of legends. His red hair that moved against the breezes at times, the unnerving eyes the color of the hottest blue flames, and not being in the least bit discomforted by the heat all due to his efreeti blood so he claimed.....and well Bahir was inclined to believe him. His red robes also catching the wind and making him seem more like a comet come to travel with the band than anything of this plane. The scimitar the strange man carried was a good omen though. Despite the mans odd appearance he was extremely easy to talk too and often Bahir found himself in a conversation that lasted hours.

Turning at the sound of a crack through the air his gaze fell on the small dark-skinned halfling. Bahir always had trouble not seeing halflings as children and, well, sometimes their antics didn't dissuade the notion. There he was still practicing with that whip, at least he had the sense to not do it from the back of a camel, seemingly oblivious to the fact he was making the mounts around him a little jumpy. As indicated by several unintentional marks left on himself it seemed he needed a lot more practice with the infernal device. He would talk ceaselessly given the chance about rare artifacts and far off places he wanted to see and visit.

Now the most recent to join the caravan was an older man by the name of Hazreem Al'Shakar. Bahir hadn't had much opportunity to speak with him and he seemed not to seek out overly much anyone's company. Hopefully, the chance to speak with him would come soon as Bahir disliked unknowns.......

Paellat like to be off the camel as often as possible, he has his rope tied up to it, so he can get up and down the camel while it's moving in the caravan, he's only fallen once...he has trouble sitting still for too long, (think ADHD)

Pae wears a heavy red robe over his, a light scimitar (equivalent of a rapier) is carried underslung to his back, hidden within his robes is a hand crossbow, his shaved head is typically covered by a turban only during the high sun times, or when he's on the camel...

disregard the "wagons" in my first post, I was thinking occidental caravan not a desert caravan...obviously wagons won't work in a desert...

Also he would have bought some water flasks before leaving the city for the desert...so I'll put those on my sheets, I didn't realize we'd be starting on the move

Daumari feels the eyes of the paladin glance over him. He never cared for their kind; he had always found them too full of themselves and their faiths to be taken seriously. Though he'd never had any quarrel with their ilk, either. That was something which, in the wastes of Katapesh, can hold a lot of meaning. And there was no denying their usefulness in a fight, something he doubted could be said for several others in their company.

As he scans the land and sky about them the ranger absently fingers a rough, poorly-made stone ring. Garavel hadn't been overly discriminating when accepting folk for this expedition, worrying more about recruiting warm bodies than seeking out those that would prove useful to their task. Just last night one such volunteer had forced a fight with the caravan leader, storming into the night after trading several choice words with the man. Daumari was charged with tracking the fool down, a task he was able to accomplish with little difficulty; the cleft he had fallen into was not far from their camp. The ring was a token taken from the body to inform Garavel of the man's fate.

The region is unforgiving to those that can't keep a cool head, both in the literal and figurative sense. The elements, the landscape, the creatures that call this place home work in tandem to weed out those unfit to pass through these lands. Shifting his weight with the motion of his camel, the half-elf feels the reassuring weight of his hammers beneath his robes; sometimes, even those prepared for the trials faced in these environs are claimed by the wastes. Undoubtedly, when their task is complete many of the caravan will have stained the sands with their blood. Even a ranger raised in the region can easily find himself among the numbers of those fallen.

But as long as the blood of beast men stains the ground as well, such a fate is not unacceptable.

Hazreem began the day as he had so many others, bending in prayer to each of the 4 winds, offering thanks to natures boon. With this simple act, he showed his humility in front of the awsome power of nature and it's fickle ways in the desert sands.

His ritual completed he moved amongst the animals of the caravan, checking them all for injury, heailing what he could with his skills. Using the gifts of the winds themselves, he regularly topped up the water supplies, a simple incantation provinding enough to fill a water skin. Despite his ability to maintian this water, doing so for an entire caravan would be taxing, so he also ensured the rationing of their main water supplies was done properly.

These jobs completed, he then prepared his own mount "Salin" for the journey. The robes he wore over his armour helped to cool him in the heat, not that he was overly uncomfotable, having grown up in the deserts of the south. His hide armour would stink of his sweat by the end of the day, but in a land where danger was as likely as the changing of the winds he donned it none the less.

Looking around at the others who had been gathered by Garavel, he smiled broadley. Surely such as these could be depended on for the task they had been signed on for. Such a motley collection of pepole they were too. However, motley was what you wanted when faced with the dangers of desert travel. He nodded briefly at the big Paladin who seemed to be looking at the others as well and offered a welcoming smile, his weathered face creasing at the eyes. When the big one was ready, he would come to Hazreem and talk. Until then, the druid preferred to leave others to their thoughts, knowing that time and the forced companionship of travel would eventually open even the most stubborn of mouths.

"Come, Salin, up! We must move before mighty Sarenrae burns the fleas from your fur, oh great ship of the desert" Again he smiled, looking at the land around him, noting the patterns of nature in this new land he planned to called home...again.

With some difficulty he is able to get the stubborn beast to speed up or slow down but beyond that was courting disaster. Managing to eventually get beside Garavel, "May the sun always light your way Caravan Master. How far lies our destination?" There is not a hint of weariness or impatience in his voice even though his backside is killing him from all this riding he is unaccustomed too.

cast endure elements every day
The wind, the heat, it calls to Efreat. He has found ample company with this holy warrior; the art of conversation is lost on some of these desert dwellers; so uncivilized. Having been in the desert for some time now, he has realized that the skills of the desert natives do have their benefits. Sometimes one finds a diamond hiding in a lump of coal.

When will we arrive? Will she be there? Why have the dreams stopped coming? We must be quick. I must...No...I will find her.

Mah'ysa had joined the caravan as was deemed necessary by the Head Cleric, but she was having doubts about the wisdom of his choice. Granted, the aged cleric was by far, much more experienced than herself, but where was the wisdom in sending an acolyte to negotiate with raiders and sactify entire temples...she still did not know. But she would try her best, all for Sarenrae's glory. Fortunately, the temple also thought it wise to have a paladin accompany her in the caravan. The past couple of days had been much more bearable with the company of one of her faith to converse with. And of course it helped that this particualr paladin was very easy on the eyes.

A slim, pale hand slips from the billowing blue robes and red flowing scarves that seem to adorn Mah'ysa's body as she holds tightly to the saddle that she rides on. Ever since she was a little girl, Mah'ysa had wanted to ride a camel, but now that she was riding one, she wasn't sure as to the stability of the animal. With each step it took, the saddle seems to sway and bob and the young cleric was sure that she was gonna topple off the large beast at any second. However, she was managing better than she had expected. Her other hand slipped over the pommel of the new scimitar at her hip. She was not much for using weapons in her life, but had undergone the training given to all clerics of the Dawnflower and as such, was competant in its use.

Her blue eyes scanned the others in the caravan and took note of special individuals: There of course was Garavel, the caravan master, a rather charming fellow for one who had seen so much desert travel. Than there was her own companion, the paladin, Bahir. Though she had just met the man, she had quickly come to trust his words and though he was trained to fight, his philosophy seemed to mirror her own when it came to solving disputes. Then of course was the quiet ranger, who seemed to be along more for his knowledge of the raiders than anything else. The druid was also something of a curiosity and Mah'ysa had been more than happy to help the man with rationing out water, using a little of her own divine magic, and making sure that those in the caravan stayed healthy. Then the sorceror, another one who saw the merits of words, had been a pleasant companion on their journey. Finally, that lovable halfling, Mah'ysa had had a few good laughs watching him climb atop his camel and practice with his scorpion whip.

Mah'ysa turned back to the desert ahead and picked up her pace to come alongside Garavel's camel as Bahir started to make come conversation.

"Yes, I to would like to know how much further we have before our destination" Mah'ysa says. Though the cloth wrapped Buzuq strapped to her saddle shows her instrument of choice, Mah'ysa nonetheless speaks in a light, calming voice that shows the experience that she has with talking to people.

Hazreem watched with great interest as the little man lept energetically on and off his dromedary mount. It was like watching one of the sand gofers from his home as it went about clearing and defending a feeding ground. All energy and excitement. The image caused him to sile again. As the whip finally cracked fully he gave a little jump and laughed out loud

"Well done Pae! That one scared the buzzards from their perpetual circling, I am sure"

His eyes then moved to the individual that truly grabbed his attention in this group, Efreat. The man was an enigma to the druid. Born of the blood of things not natural to this world, yet possessed of the powers of the elements themselves. The druid truly didn't know what to think of this man. Taking a deep breath, he decided to find out more. He clicked his tongue gently and spoke in druidic to Salin, his mount, urging her fall back to where the sorceror was placed in their carravan.

"Blessings of the 4 winds to you my friend" he said, a smile again cracking his weathered face. "I trust you are enjoying the vast beauty of this land on the back of the great desert ship on which you ride?"
He left the question open, hoping to at least get some response.

Surprised and pleased that Mah'ysa has joined him and taking note that Garavel seems preoccupied with something on the horizon, Bahir turns just slightly toward her rhythmically swaying form on her camel so as not to overbalance himself, which he had done once already today and didn't want to make a habit of. Despite the aforementioned danger of overbalancing occuring he manages a sweeping bow from camel-back and a warm friendly smile crosses his lips, "I am honored Radiant One, and here I was thinking it could not get any sunnier here in the desert. How may I be of service?"

Bahir can just barely make out the hint of a smile through the shawls that cover most of Mah'ysa's face. "I to am honored Protector of the Flame and am pleased to see that you have more than a strong arm to contribute to this expedition. I was just wondering about the state of things at our destination. Though Sarenrae indeed has blessed this journey, I can't help but feel a cold gloom in our future that will attempt to smother the blossoming flames of the Dawnflower, much as the rumored temple has had happen to it. I am anxious to arrive at our destination, but at the same time, I fear what we may find once we get there."

Behold gentle people of the desert, over that rise we will find what we have traveled so far to reach, Garavel says to those who have approached him, pointing at the next hill. A short time later and the caravan crests the last rise everyone spies a small camp by a large craggy tree, called Sultan's Claw informed by Garavel. Its obvious why it is call such as you can see five immense, mostly leafless branches, the growth looks more like a giant skeletal talon than a thing of living wood. Sitting at and around the base of the tree is a caravan of a half dozen wagons and a large tent. Camels in a nearby pen prance in agitation, and a clutch of confused goats and livestock wander the grounds around the wagons. Perhaps a dozen men and women rush around the campsite, chasing down an animal or hastening toward the center of the cluster near the Sultan's Claw, with pails of water in their hands. Garavel having paused to behold the great tree and point out their destination as been reached, has a look of shock on his face, One of the wagons is on fire! Lush orange and red flames engulf an elaborate wooded wagon emblazoned with painted moons and stars. A gout of smoke pours from an open door, and as you approach an ill wind blows a number of colorful fortune telling Harrow cards from inside the wagon. cards blow in all directions but one seem to be headed right for the new comers of the camp. It crashes into the chest of Efreat in a burst of orange cinders, he grabs it and looks at the worn card, a picture of Cyclone, a force that tears through whatever it meets at the behest of an intelligent being. Those who know of such things get a shiver down their spine as the understand the cards meaning which protends war, arson and destructive plans. As everyone eyes leave the card in Efreat's hand and look back towards the camp the whole of Sultan's Claw erupts into brilliant flame.

The flap of the main tent flies open and a regal woman steps out into the firelit day and roars, Douse that flame! to everyone nearby before turning in your direction and sees her man, Garavel appraoching. Ah Garavel, and just a moment later than the nick of time, as usual! Then looking past her major domo and directly at you she barks out a simple order before running off towards the fire, Find some way to help!

Bahir can just barely make out the hint of a smile through the shawls that cover most of Mah'ysa's face. "I to am honored Protector of the Flame and am pleased to see that you have more than a strong arm to contribute to this expedition. I was just wondering about the state of things at our destination. Though Sarenrae indeed has blessed this journey, I can't help but feel a cold gloom in our future that will attempt to smother the blossoming flames of the Dawnflower, much as the rumored temple has had happen to it. I am anxious to arrive at our destination, but at the same time, I fear what we may find once we get there."

Wow! Reread what Mah'ysa wrote now that the events are unfolding at the camp. You sure your not a harrowed reader yourself, Mah'ysa?! Very nice :)

Bahir's face shifts to one of seriousness, "I too share your concerns, Daughter of the Dawnflower. Ah, see there. Garavel says we have almost arrived. Your feelings are justified, our faith has been attacked here once already and this 'Carrion King' supposedly haunts the sands in the area. I agree that we sh..........by Sarenrae's light!" Both of their camels crest the hill to take in the sight below and despite himself he is momentarily stunned as the scene unfolds. It isn't until the smoldering card is held aloft by Efreat that he snaps into action. Glancing back toward Mah'ysa, her look is all he needs to direct him in his path. Quickly dismounting, his training from numerous patrols with the Dawn Vigil kicks in, "I will assist in dousing the flames, which of you is with me? Stay close together in case the gnolls of the area are about!" Taking just enough time to see who will be accompanying him he begins to run, as fast as the sands will allow him, toward the inferno.

Hazreem's eyes widen as the great tree bursts into flame. He looks to the panicked animals and realises his resources are best used getting those creatures under control so more of the people are free to help fight the fire.

He calls to his companions "I shall tend to the animals, move them from the area so your efforts are unhindered. Try to get more of those in the camp to fight the fire. Use the water, between Mah'Ysa and I can always replensih it"

With that, the druid springs forward, calling on his power to calm the animals in the centre of the camp.

Zoomackulas

Spoiler:

I will move and cast calm animals on the group of animals in the cetre of camp. I believe they're goats, and they're not penned. Once that is done I'll attempt to use my handle animal skill and wild empathy to herd them out of the way so the fire fighting efforts are unhindered. If that is successful, I'll join the fire fighting group in forming a water brigade and use my create water orison to fill buckets. Wasn't sure how many actions you wanted so outlined my entire plan. Here's my rolls. Calm animals 2d4+1=4 HD worth of animals (hmmm. not as many as i'd hoped). Handle animal check to heard them 1d20+7=9 (also pretty crappy). I'll try again if I need to on the handle animal. cheers

At Garaval's word, Mah'ysa looks excitedely ahead just to have her excitement replaced with utter shock at the scene before them. Stunned to inactivity for a moment, the cleric can do nothing until he glaces over at Bahir. Their eyes meeting, they both spring into action, Bahir dropping from his mount while Mah'ysa spurs her own camel forward. When the mount gets closer, Mah'ysa too slides from her saddle and will head towards one of the water stations. Once there, she will enter into an almost trace like state as she says "Great Dawnflower, though you burning flame often grants vitality and life to what it touchs, this flame is bringing about destruction, please grant me your strength in comabtting this rogue flame. Give me the live giving waters that can quench the thirst of this rampaging beast."

As Mah'ysa completes her prayer, she places both hands over an empty bucket as the bucket suddenly fills with a gallon's worth of clean, cool water. As empty buckets return, she will offer up more prayers to Sarenrae to refill those empty buckets with water until the fire's have stopped.

Looking down at the card, "Ill fate. Ill fortune." Seeing the fire upon the tree, Efreat rushes forward to help with the fire. "I'll try and help with the water." Winking he states, "Tis more my thing to start fires than put them out."

"Come you eaters of all things not nailed down" Hazreem calls encourageingly to the animals. He focuses ont hose he managed to calm magically in the hope that the rest would follow their lead.

He takes a brief moment to glance around at the scene of chaos, with smoke and ashes billowing up into the sky, probably visible to all within miles of the site.

His ministration with these animals was taking longer than he realised. Hopefully they would get the message soon that standing near a blazing tree was far more dangerous than listening to the calming voice of the human with funny looking beard.

The great tree is ablaze as is the wagon as the adventurers quickly approach to help. Bahir races over to the bucket line and helps feed water pails down the line trying to put out the flames. He is joined by Daumari and Efreat in line, all the extra help is felt by the others as the fire is slowly being brought under control. Frowns by Almah and some of the others can be seen as the precious water is being used up but that changes as Mah'ysa dashes over to the head of the line and begins to use her gifts from the Dawnflower to create water. Almah nods her head at Mah'ysa in grim determination to get this fire out quickly. Seeing the fire begin to come under control, Hazreem decides to help with the frighten animals running around in the chaos, some even heading out of the camp. Haz takes a moment to calm himself and reach out to the animals minds, thnking soothing thoughts. Some heed his call but the rest continue scared by the fire and panic by the two leggers. The halfling rushes into the camp looking for the best way to help, he sees a few of the mercenaries trying to move a wagon that is very close to the burning one, they are having a hard time of it being so heavy. His gaze shifts as he sees some of his party rush in the bucket line passing water towards the fire. Mah'ysa is at the head of the line creating more water so as to not use up what is needed to stay alive. Off to the side of the burning wagon he can see a small red-headed old man kneeling down next to wounded mercenaries who have been burned by the fire. His head bowed and lips moving he lays hands on the burns bring relief to whom ever he touches, he can focus only on one person at a time thou and others like a female merc can be heard screaming in pain from her burns, death is close. Hazreem is bring the animals under control slowly, given time he will bring calm to them but they are really scared. Pae jumps back out of the way as a goat goes flying by almost running him down. With all that is going on Pae can't seem to figure out the cause or source of the fire.

Noticing the men struggling with the second wagon so close to this burning one, Bahir realizes that the situation could quickly get worse. Throwing a last bucket of water on the inferno as he runs past he joins the men and helps push the wagon away.

Seeing the helpless victims of the fires lying there screaming puts Hazreem into a quandary. Should he rush to the aid of the burn victim, leaving the animals to maybe flee into the desert or worse, die in the fire. Or does he trust to the man tending them, hoping that one of his other comaniions will reach the female who was screaming, in time.

In the end, he determines to continue along his path of tending the beasts. "One cannot hope to achieve anything of import if one is always following the changes of the sands" he remembers from some of his earlier druidic lessons.

for when it's needed. My next Handle Animal check 1d20+7=18 was much better, thankyou IC

Or does he trust to the man tending them, hoping that one of his other comaniions will reach the female who was screaming, in time.

From the description, I assume that Bahir hasn't noticed the burn victims yet (He's not real perceptive) otherwise he would have asked Mah'ysa to help. Now a big wagon he can see! :) Hopefully, Mah'ysa will see them though.

Hearing the screams of the burn victims, Mah'ysa looks over to Almah and shouts, "I will be but a moment" as she rushes from her place and heads toward the screaming woman. When she arrives at the woman's side, she will first access the woman's condition before deciding how best to help her.

Heal Check to determin how severe are the wounds. Whether the woman is still conscious or whether she is in the negatives.
Heal 17

Seeing help is needed elsewhere, Bahir dashes over to the wagon the four mercs are trying to move. Pae also runs over and moves any objects that might hamper the wagon moving more easily. Even with the help of the two the wagon does not budge. The wagon that is on fire real, real close to where they are attempting to move is causing problems getting footing to move the thing.Str check again! The bucket line is on the other side of the wagon and the flames are trying to escape the water by heading in their direction. Hazreem continues to work to calm the animals, its a slow process and he is able to clam more down but its hard when the other animals run around scared making the one's under control skiddish.Going to need another animal check! Hearing the woman's screams catches Mah'ysa attention, she breaks away from what she was doing and rushes over to the lady fighter. She proceeds to check the warrioress over and figures the lady will not be around for another minute due to her wound she has taken from the fire.

Sweat begins to bead and pour down his ebony skin, glinting in the sunlight from both the exertion and the heat of the fire. Struggling with the other men to move the wagon, Bahir cannot seem to get a solid purchase in the sand, "Pae! This isn't working! Do you think you can go get one of those camels over here to help move this thing?" Yelling to the other men, "Ok, this time lets try to rock it so it'll come unstuck!"

Hazreem keeps his demeanour calm and pleasant, while on the inside he begins to worry for the safety of his charges. The animals were truly panicky, and were feeding off each others fear in a pack animl kind of way.

"Come and follow Hazreem, my little ones. Follow me to safety my friends". Although he knows they cannot understand his words, they help him to focus the calming nature of the sounds of his voice.

Handle animal check 1d20+7=13 . Not as high as I'd hoped, but what can you do? cheers

Seeing that she does not have a minute to spare in this situation, Mah'ysa grips the holy symbol that hangs from her neck and begins to pray once more, "May the Dawnflower bring comfort to those who combat the rogue flame. May your body and heart both be soothed and calmed by the cooling flames of Saranrae's love." As the young cleric finishes her prayer, holy light suddenly bursts from her body and settles around the injuries of those who lay suffering in the sand. Where the light touches is a soothing sensation as the holy light begins to easy and heal the burns among the inflicted.

Once Mah'ysa is certain that there is no risk of any of the burn victims dying, she will rush back to the water line to continue her water making efforts.

The chaos continues at the Sultan's Claw, the fire is still out of control, animals, men and women run around creating confusion, the wagon close to the fire the men are working hard to move still won't budge and the burn victims scream in agony. The new arrivals help is begining to show thou. The wagon begins to move with the added help but it is a slow process. It's still in danger only being moved a few feet but the brave men can feel they are getting somewhere and dig in to the task. The animals on the other hand are another story as they run scared getting in the way of folks trying to fight the fire. The great success to this point is the burn victims are no longer in danger of dying as a wave of divine energy flows over them relieving their pain.

Hazreem almost blushes as his efforts to control the crazed animals seem to become more and more futile. Certainly he had never had to deal with such a large number of the creatures in such circumstaces, but he was connected to nature in a way the others were not. This was his area of expertise and he was not putting on a good show of it.

Shrugging off these thoughts as being nought but time wasters, the sun browned man tries one last time to bring the beasts under control and out of everyones road. This time he uses the druidic language, still keeping the tone calm and soothing, but hoping the ancient language would aid in his task.

In case I'm allowed to make another roll. Handle animal 1d20+7=18 . As usual, IC ccomes into its own after all the excitement has died down. If it seems as if trying the control the animals is a lost casue, I will instead move to aid in shifting the wagon. Strength check 1d20+2=20 . Wasn't sure what you were after from your post sorry Z, so I put in both options for you. Cheers

A panicked goat runs headlong into his thigh, even through the armor he could tell that was going to leave a bruise. Not having time to do anything other than ignore the bleating animal he refocuses and immediately takes advantage of the little momentum the wagon had built up when it shifted, "NOW! IT'S MOVING, PUT YOUR BACKS INTO IT!" With both Daumari's and Pae's help success suddenly seems assured.

"I am not made for this," Efreat grumbles. Waving his hands through arcane motions, buckets of water begin moving toward the fire. cast mage hand to lift a bucket of water at a time. "Listen to me fellow travelers, we must work together to get through this. Those of great strength move to the stuck wagon. Those of animal husbandry, move to help keep the animals calm. All others join the bucket line to douse the fire." Make a diplomacy check to get more efficiency in the work 1d20+7=21

The flaming wagon seems to be finally coming under control in favor of the combatants, there's still a lot of work to be done to get it out but progress can be seen as buckets of water move faster by unseen hands to quench the fire. The Sultan's Claw is still furiously ablaze, people rush throwing buckets of water onto the tree with small cries as they do each time, the precious water supply dwindling quickly. The crazed animals heeding not the man of natures call earlier begin to calm as two folks come to his aid, a couple whom seem bonded to each other smile at the man's efforts, their faces show how grateful his help is to them. A cheer goes up as the burly men fighting the stubbern wagon finally get the edge they need in moving the thing out of the fires path. Once moving they easily push and pull it to safety. The four men who started the process stand up from their labors smile and shake the hands of the newcomers who gave them a hand. The screams and groans of the wounded lessen as the two wielders of the healing touch aid each one quickly giving comfort and relief. Everyone is out of danger from the wounds recieved and are thankful for the help. The first woman helped smiles up at her new hero, her burns almost completely healed by her.

With the wagon almost under control from the fire and the animals being herded back into make shift pens and the wagon safely out of danger and the wounded tended too all that is left is the big tree ablaze to take care of but this task is going to be difficult as the water supply is getting real low...............

Haz, I was looking for a higher roll from you to do it yourself was all. I was giving you time to do that before I introduced the couple to aid you.

With the wagon almost under control from the fire and the animals being herded back into make shift pens and the wagon safely out of danger and the wounded tended too all that is left is the big tree ablaze to take care of but this task is going to be difficult as the water supply is getting real low...............

"Well done!" Smiling and shaking the mens hands Bahir's gaze turns toward the blazing Sultan's Claw, seeing no immediately way to put it out with their water getting so low. Scanning the surrounding area he looks for any of the camp placed in more danger by the fire from the tree. Seeing no immediate danger, "We may have to let it burn itself out."

Hazreem beams a smile at the two who aid him in getting the animals penned. "Greetings and salutations to you both" he states enthusiastically, grabbing a young goat and gently easing it into the enclosure. "I am grateful for your assistance with such stubornly affronted beasts as these. However, proper introductions will need to wait till the blaze on the claw is under control. Can I trust in you two to keep these goats penned while I assist in the refilling of our waters?"

Assuming the anmals are under control, or as soon as they are

Hazreem rushes through the chaotic scene to the end of the bucket brigade. He reaches down and grabs the snad at his feet, speaking a few words int he druidic tongue and calling on the belssings of Gozreh, he pours the sand from his hand into the barrel. One of th people attending the bucket line looks to object but then opens their eyes wide in asstonishent as the sand instead becomes pure water. Hazreem looks at their astoished face and winks "It is nought but a trick my friend. Somehting my god taught to me while I wandered the deserts of the south." He then prepares to do the same again.

The sand bit was just a bit flavour text for how Hazreems spells might work. Hope you don' mind. he casts the orison create water and will continue to do so until teh fire is out and the water supply is finished.

As for worrying about my response to the dice Zoo, have no fear. I tend to laugh at the fickle beast that is IC and run with the dice rolls. Hazreem the druid on the the other hand was certainly frustrated and embarrassed at taking so long to complete a task he should be able to do easily. cheers

Hazreem stood with his hands hovering over the water barrel. His piercing eyes staring at the blazing tree before him. To see such a marvel of nature destroyed in such a fashion was disapointing to the druid. Fire itself was part of the natural order of things, and a great element in its ability to destroy and bring about renewal. However this one seemed to be unatural in its origin.

As he watched the orange flames licked upwards towards the pale sky of a desert afternoon. They skipped and danced to their own rythm, seeming to live and breathe, drawing life from the mostly dead timber of the warped tree on which it fed. Time seemed to slow for the man, as the flames flickered in a mesmerising dance of synergy and energy. Things seemed to just ....pause, as if waiting for a moment or event to occur so that liefe would again spring into the world.

Just thoughtI'd post to get things rolling again. I'm guessing the weekend slows down posting huh?

Bahir stands watching what seems a moment frozen in time as the flames lick ever higher up the twisted branches of the Sultan's Claw and animals scream thier protests at being man-handled in the background. Looking toward where Mah'ysa tended to the burn victims, at least no-one was killed... A crackling pop from the tree sends an ember flying past his cheek. Hazreet watches the inferno as if mezmorised by the fire sprites dancing across the boughs. A frown crosses his face as Pae's and Efreat's words come to him from across the chaos, Why unnatural? Probably someone careless with a lamp. Not immediately spotting Daumari after his help moving the wagon, the held breath of this moment seems to finally exhale.....

Sorry for the delay, been dealing with stuff here but I am ready to get back to the game!

With the wagon pulled out of the way each of the caravan guards shakes hand with each other and the help that arrived to make it easier on them. After a few seconds of this, the guards rush over to join in the bucket brigade. By the animal pen the husband and wife also shake hands to the newcomer, The animals are under are care so you go and do what you must to finish putting out the fire. We will talk after this is all over, you have our thanks. Haz rushes off with a smile and begins to help with the water line. He gets smile for his help and the tricks with the water created out of sand. Mean while Pae, Daumari, Efreat and Bahir stand and watch as people rush back and forth still trying to bring the fire under control. Talk of unnatural fire comes from their lips making each pause in their own thoughts, Efreat reaches into his mind for information regarding the fires origin, can it be something just natural and careless or is something more afoot here. He looks over the fire again and decides its just human error of somekind, at least for now until he gets a better look at things. Mah'ysa continues working with the old priest with the wounded.

After about an hour of working and the water supply low, Sultan's Claw is only embers, most of the tree is on the ground the main trunk is the only thing standing on the hill, it looks more like black pole than a tree now. Garavel can be seen talking to Almah in the distance, their heads close together whispering in hushed tones which lasts for a while. Finally Garavel stands up straight and looks around the camp, everyone is still working trying to get the camp back under control. He spots your group who have been standing together discussing all that has happen today, he catches one of your eyes and motions for the whole group to come over. Once there he introduces the lady standing with him, I have the pleasure to introduce you to your employer, mistress Almah, a merchant princess from the city of Katapesh. She stands there looking each of you over taking her time as if memorizing each person from head to toe........

Hazreem bows low, sweeping his right hand out and to the side in the traditional greeting of his people. The gesture was both a sign of respect and also served to show that no weapons were being held. "Greetings Mistress Almah, may the desert winds bring many blessings to you! I am Hazreem Al'Shakar, your humble servant" . After greeting her he stands and smiles in a friendly way, not sure of the formalities of meeting someone of such a high station.

Once she realized the the tree was a lost cause, Mah'ysa had moved over to the burn victims to check them all over once more to make sure that they were alive and stable. Once Garaval motions for them to come however, she stands and heads in his direction. Upon introductions, Mah'ysa respectfully makes the sign for water as she says, "A pleasure to meet you mistress Almah, I am Mah'ysa, follower of the Dawnflower and your servant so far as it serves Saranrae's needs."

Sweeping one arm in front of himself with a graceful flourish, Bahir gives a deep bow, "Bahir al-Asim Abdul Shihab, servant of the flame and light. May Sarenrae's light always reveal your path." A friendly smile warms his face, "It was the Dawnflower's will that we arrived in time to help avoid any losses in life. Your equipment at least can be replaced. I will assist in any way I can and believe my companions are both capable and willing to replace your water stores."